Slytherins Lovely
by Shadow Rise
Summary: [Complete] Tracey, Blaise, Draco, Pansy, and Goyle... A day in the life of your average Slytherin spawn.
1. Rebel Heart

_Slytherins. Lovely.  
By Shadow Rise  
Rebel Heart_

Her silver (Not gray, silver) eyes darted around the small, tile-ridden room, searching for any other signs of life. She allowed the glorious smirk to spread over her full, cherry-stained lips and she exited the bathroom of Pansy Parkinson's private Head Girl dorm. Vaguely, she marveled at how ironic that name was since given to Banshee Pansy.

Lightly, the brunette swayed from the dorms, letting the tapestry fall into place once more. She padded away from the scene of the crime quickly, her bare feet becoming chilled. Actually, all of her body was chilled. It was five in the morning and she was only in a Foulmouth Falcons Quidditch jersey and her tighty-whities.

"Bloody Boogies Bludger." she murmured, glaring at the mirror.

The thing, Imogene, had always hated her, ever since first year when she almost broke it. It wasn't her fault Filch and his damnable cat had almost seen her out after hours. Even if she was a Slytherin, Filch would never pass up the chance to report her.

What was it about her? No matter who it was, they usually either hated her with a fiery passion or was trying to get into her tight-fitting, leather pants.

Tracey Davis creeped up the wooden stairs of the Slytherin Girl's Dorm and into her own dorm, 'Seventh Years'.

She'd never admit to doing what she just had. It was common knowledge in the 'snakepit' that Parkinson and Davis were in a constant state of war; verbally, physically, and practical joke-ly. Needless to say, Davis was more than slightly better at it. The reason she would never admit to it was because of how utterly lame it was. Which was a first, seeing as she had play apprentice to infamous Fredric and George Weasley since she was eleven. They had said, despite her being Slytherin, she would make a perfect replacement, as well as their little sister Virginia.

That was another reason not a lot of Slythies liked her, she befriended Gryffs and Huffies and Ravens. And not to mention Weasleys.

Forty-three dungbombs in her toilet, honestly. Tracey sighed and slipped off her jersey. Maybe she could get some homework done at breakfast. She'd never been able to go to sleep after she woke up, especially so early. She tugged her long brown hair up into two large knots on the back of her head, one next to the other and pulled on a, rather on the small side, black wife- beater that fit her perfectly and looked at the mirror. Green plaid skirt, black shirt, green and black checked socks, and black Maryjanes with green buckles. _What a color scheme. _she thought sarcastically.

Negative to popular belief, not all Slytherins were as prim and proper in choosing their clothes as Princess Parkinson. Hell, most of the time she just grabbed whatever was jammed in the closet. It was a pretty easy, seeing as most of her clothes were either black or green.

Tracey exited the room with her bookbag on her shoulder. She really needed to finish that Transfiguration Essay today. As she walked through the common room, she felt her breath still at the sight of him. Her one and only, who didn't know she thought of him in any other way than friendly- like.

_Breath, Davis, breathe in; breathe out... This is an issue, hon._ she reminded herself, _He can't kiss you if you're dead._

__

_Review Please, fingers work faster._


	2. Perverted Mind

_Slytherins. Lovely.  
By Shadow  
Perverted Mind_

"Hey Blaise." he heard a familiar voice say.  
  
"Morning Trace, couldn't sleep?"  
  
Blaise Zabini had known Tracey since the two of them were children, so he knew about all of her quirks and things of the sort. Like how when she was home and couldn't sleep, she did her laundry in her white cotton froggy knicker set and nothing else. He would have smiled at remebering that night, but then he'd have to explain why he was to Tracey.  
  
"I couldn't get _back_ to sleep." she replied, flopping down on the sofa next to him, "Got any tricks?"  
  
"You mean besides sex?"  
  
The brunette girl snorted in an un-ladylike manner before propping her Mary Jane-encased feet on his lap. "Puh-lease, you don't have any tricks I haven't seen before, Zabini."  
  
Blaise smirked. Truth was, Tracey hadn't had the chance to see _anyone's_ tricks, much less to be compairing them with him. As he had said, he knew _all_ her quirks. "Oh, I'm just so sure, _virgin_."  
  
Tracey glared at him, but sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. He supposed she had been finishing up yet another prank that was at Parkinson's expense earlier, and so now she was tired but couldn't sleep. Blaise was pretty sure everyone at Hogwarts knew of his friend's insomnia, they just didn't know the cause of it. It was a simple rule; you sleep, you wake up too early, you sleep again.  
  
Then again, she always had been one for breaking rules, hadn't she?  
  
The raven-haired teen stared at the orange and amber flames as they blazed around the logs in the fireplace. He gave a small smile as he felt Tracey snuggle into his side, drapping his arm around her. He had been reading his potions book down in the common room until she came down. He had already read it twice, anyway.  
  
That was how he had made prefect since fifth year, he read the whole book a couple of times and never studied. Kind of scary, really.  
  
Blaise came out of his thoughts as Trace sighed softly and he realized she was sleeping. Amazing, she never just fell back asleep.  
  
"Maybe there's just something about you."


	3. Misunderstood Muscle

_Slytherins. Lovely._

_by Shadow Rise_

_Misunderstood Muscle_

Gregory Goyle had only been trying to sleep. But, up in that dungeon dorm, it was rather cold. So, Greg figured he'd go sniffing around the castle for a while and find a decent, warm place to sleep for a couple more hours. He had only gotten as far as the common room when he heard Zabini muttered a few words to himself.

"…She never falls back asleep…"

Greg realized he was speaking in regards to Tracey Marie Davis, who was snoozing quietly on Blaise's shoulder. He had to say, for a guy who could make prefect three years running, Blaise Zabini didn't have a clue more often than not. Especially when it came to the matter of Tracey. Yes, even Greg had known of Tracey's "secret" feelings.

A couple of years back, he'd asked to barrow her Charms notes and, in the corner of the paper, was written a small heart with 'B.A.Z.' inside.

Despite popular belief, Greg wasn't as stupid as people thought.

"Maybe there's just something about you."

He gave Blaise a grin when he turned around to look at him.

"Mornin', precious."

"Hey Goyle."

Tracey cuddled closer to his side and Greg's grin widened. He just nodded slightly and headed for the door with a light smile. _So clueless._

As he enetered the Great Hall, Draco was exiting with a serious look on his face. Greg glanced over to the Slytherin table to see Pansy Parkinson looking stunned.

_Oh, great._

_  
_

**R/R Plz!**


	4. Crying Eyes

_Slytherins. Lovely._

_by Shadow Rise_

_Crying Eyes  
_

"I can't stand that Tracey Davis wench." she complained, seating herself before to him.

"And no one can stand you, what's your point?" Draco quipped, buttering his toast.

"Moody today, eh?"

"Something like that."

"Not enough sleep? What, your little Gryff too much to handle?"

Pansy stared as the blonde bit into his toast, trying ignoring her comment. But he was clutching that butter-knife a little _too_ hard.

"Oh dear, touched a nerve, have I?"

He dropped everything in his hands and looked across the table at her.

"Parkinson?"

"Yes, luv?"

"Shut your fucking trap before I set Davis on you. And, believe you me, she won't be as polite as I'm being."

Pansy pursed her lips together and added sugar to her tea. But the silence did not last long enough.

"So, you didn't get any last night, hm?"

"Shut up."

"Poor Draco, you know you can always come to me to help you with that."

Pansy was shocked as Draco reached over the table and grabbed the front of her robes. "Shut your filthy mouth _now_, Parkinson." he hissed, his eyes flashing, "You _know_ it isn't like that with Ginevra. You _know_ I love her."

Draco released her and swept out of the Great Hall without a word. Pansy still sat, shocked and stunned into silence, even when Gregory Goyle came up and took the seat across from her.

"Smooth Parky, very smooth."

She looked away from Greg. Pansy stood and began to make her way to her bedroom.

Love? He loved a _Weasley_? How could he?

"He loves her." she whispered, tears clouding her vision.

She supposed, on some level, that she had always had a hope inside of her that they would patch things up and get back together. That they would be happy. But, she was wrong about that and he was in love with Ginevra Weasley.

It was a good thing his father was in Azkaban, otherwise there wouldn't be a Draco Malfoy anymore.

She slid down against the wall outside her room into a sitting position with her knees pulled into her chest and cried.

_He loves her. Not you. And you can't still love him._

"And I don't."_  
_


	5. Silver Tongue

_Slytheirns. Lovely._

_by Shadow Rise_

_Silver Tongue_

_What was her problem? _She was acting like the spoiled brat she was as a child.

Draco just didn't see what made her want to piss him off so badly all the time. She knew exactly how much he cared for Ginevra. She knew enough about him to know how protective and dangerous he could be when something or some one he cared for was concerned. So what was wrong with her?

What had really pissed him off, though, was that a lot of the stuff she had said had reminded him of how he used to be. How he used to "love" Pansy and everything like that.

Now he was desperately trying to convince himself that it wasn't like that with Ginny, that he really _did_ love her and he wasn't just having another relationship that would end up like him and Parkinson. But, that would only happen if he didn't hold onto her.

And Draco was fully ready to hold on to Ginevra M. Weasley with all his person.

"Ginny?" he called quietly, opening the prefect's bathroom door.

She always came in here in the mornings for the privacy.

The redhead stood from her place where she sat on the seat of the bay window. "Draco? What are you doing here?"

Draco wrapped his arms around her, picking her up off the floor and kissing her with a fiery passion. The petite girl looked up at him in amusement as he set her on her feet, but didn't let go.

"What's all this about?" she giggled, a smile gracing her features.

He pressed a kiss to her lips again. "I love you, Gin, I want you to know that." he said, "I really do love you, baby girl."

She cupped his face in her hands and pecked his lips quickly.

"I love you, too, Draco."

**end**  



End file.
